


#7 - i will be your canvas

by hedahearteyes



Series: Lexa's Little List of Fantasies [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Body Paint, F/F, the funny part is that i like the non-smutty part way more than i like the smutty part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 15:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4441346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hedahearteyes/pseuds/hedahearteyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke finds a list of things Lexa wants her to do to her and naturally, Clarke has no problem in working on what she calls Lexa's Little List of Fantasies.</p><p>//</p><p>#7 - Clarke needs some inspiration to finish a painting, Lexa suggests she tries something new. Good thing Clarke still has a win to cash in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#7 - i will be your canvas

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I have literally no idea what the fuck I am doing and I swear, this piece - especially the latter part - is a product of that. Personally, I have been happier with my work, but I am still pretty happy with how this turned out. 
> 
> //
> 
> Sam, much apologies for the delay, tell your cousin that I worked hard on it though.
> 
> Before I let y'all get to the sweet, smutty Clexa: I have found that sometimes I lose my inspiration with a certain piece and having something else to focus on helps greatly. So if you have any prompts, please leave them in the comments or check out my [tumblr](http://hedahearteyess.tumblr.com) and leave 'em there.

Every now and then it seems that Clarke’s muse just suddenly leaves her. Like it has packed her bags and moved out of the country without a warning. Or like a laptop charger that she just couldn’t fucking find and had to replace by buying a completely new one.  
Usually, Clarke can deal with a minor creative setback. She will just start on a new project, get excited again and the inspiration for her previous project will be back like it never even left in the first place. This time it’s different. This time she has been staring at an empty canvas for two days and lo and behold, it’s still empty.  
She knows there’s some urgency behind the piece – she got commissioned three days back to do a painting as a birthday gift – but every time she starts on it, it seems that she can’t get the colors quite right or capture the feeling it’s supposed to portray. 

She groans, throwing her brush across the room. A chuckle comes from behind her and she turns around to see Lexa leaning against the doorframe, bottle of water in her hand. 

“You’re focusing too much. You don’t work like that, it has to come naturally.”

“I know, it’s just, even if I don’t focus I still can’t get it right. It just won’t come to me. At all.” 

Lexa steps into the little studio to stand beside Clarke, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tracing her fingers over Clarke’s bare arm. 

“That is because even then you are still focusing too much.” Clarke turns her head to look at Lexa, who is staring at the empty canvas before them. 

“What do you suggest I do?”

Lexa turns her head as well, smiling that almost invisible smile at her. “Try something new. Something you haven’t done before.”

“Something new?”

“Yes. A new form of art.”

“A new form of art? What, I should go bake pots or something?” 

Lexa fixes her with a look accompanied by a raised eyebrow. “No. I am just saying that trying something you haven’t done before might make you excited again. I don’t know, buy a can of spray paint and paint a wall.”

Clarke looks at her girlfriend with a smirk and a glint in her eyes. “Are you suggesting I break the law, Lexa?” 

Lexa feigns innocence. “I have done no such thing.” She stares at Clarke for a moment then, eyes drifting to her lips and she decides to lean in for a quick kiss. Just to feel Clarke’s lips on her own, however brief. She pulls back with her eyes still closed and when she opens them she finds Clarke staring at her, mouth slightly agape. It takes her breath away. 

“You’ll think of something.” And with that she pulls her arm from Clarke’s shoulders and turns to leave the room. Clarke remains still for a moment longer before she looks back at her empty canvas and the tubes of paint spread on the floor. She can still feel Lexa’s fingers brush the skin of her arm and then it hits her. 

Number 7 on Lexa’s list. It’s a good thing she still has to cash in her win from their game three days ago. 

//

Lexa comes home from her bi-weekly dinner with Indra to find two plastic bags from the art supply store on their kitchen counter and Clarke pacing the living room as she hums along to whatever song is playing on her iPod. She watches her girlfriend until the blonde turns around in her pacing and notices Lexa, a smile breaking out on her face. She pauses the song and takes out her ear buds as she moves toward the kitchen; Lexa nods her head in the direction of the plastic bags.

“I see you thought of something.”

“I did.” Clarke beams. 

“Good.”

“I’m gonna need your help, though.” She says as she moves around the counter to stand in front of Lexa. 

“My help?”

“Yes. Will you?”

“Of course. What do you need me to do?”

Clarke steps closer to Lexa, looking up at her. “I want you on the table.” Lexa’s breath hitches. She has always had a way with words; her vocabulary is very extensive and she is eloquent in pretty much every situation. Clarke has a way with words as well, but in a completely different manner. Clarke seems to know exactly what to say to set Lexa on fire. She swallows and then nods, wordlessly moving over to the dinner table and sitting on the edge of it.  
Clarke remains in the kitchen, watching Lexa as she goes. The room fills with a hot tension, coming from both women. 

She rummages through the bags for a bit, pulling out what she’s looking for and then bringing over the tubes, brushes and sponges to the table where Lexa is sitting. 

“I want to paint you.” The way Clarke is looking at her, eyes raking over her body, tells her she is being inspected, measured. A shiver runs down her spine, her throat goes dry.  
Clarke steps closer, hands parting Lexa’s legs to stand between them. “And since you lost our little game the other night, you can’t refuse.” 

In all honesty, there’s not a bone in Lexa’s body that is even thinking of refusing. She wants this; Lexa just doesn’t know that Clarke knows how much she wants this. She is trying not to be too obvious, trying not to show just how turned on she is already.  
Lexa nods, indicating to Clarke that she is okay with whatever the blonde has planned. 

“Good. Then take off your shirt.” She watches as the brunette does as she is told, soaking up the body that is slowly revealed to her. “And your jeans.” She says, when the shirt is discarded somewhere on the floor and steps away to give Lexa some space to stand and take off her pants. When she is left in only her boxer shorts and bra, she repositions herself on the table and Clarke allows her eyes to roam Lexa’s body again.  
She is taking stock, eyeing her body like a blank canvas that needs to be filled. Finally she nods and reaches for the hem of her own t-shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion. Her own jeans follow suit and Lexa gulps when she sees Clarke is wearing one of Lexa’s boxer shorts. For some reason her body always has a certain reaction to seeing Clarke wearing her clothes, especially her underwear.  
When Clarke meets Lexa’s gaze again, she recognizes the familiar desire in her eyes. Lexa can sometimes look at her as if she is ready to devour her and Clarke loves the way it makes her feel. But she’s in charge tonight; she gets to do to Lexa whatever she wants. Tonight, she may just devour Lexa. 

Shaking her head, Clarke regains control of herself and she smirks at Lexa. “I don’t want to get paint all over my clothes.”  
She’s stepping into the brunette’s space again and this time she immediately parts her legs herself, making room for Clarke to stand in between. 

They don’t speak as Clarke eyes the paint tubes on the table, deciding on what color she’ll start with and the living room is silent but for their breathing. Lexa can’t take her eyes off her girlfriend. She is always in love with Clarke, but when she watches the blonde paint, she finds her heart filling with even more adoration. The way she can concentrate on a piece and forget about everything else for a while is a sight that Lexa loves.  
To know that that concentration is focused on her now sends a shiver down her spine and starts a familiar spark in the pit of her stomach. 

Clarke steps back suddenly and moves to the kitchen, where she grabs four small bowls from the plastic bags and takes them back to the table. Wordlessly she fills them with blue, white, yellow and black and then she looks back up at Lexa. She reaches for the knot on her head and loosens it, her hair flowing down her back in curls and with the way she shakes it out, Lexa thinks her every move has been meticulously thought out, designed to work her up.  
Clarke wraps the hair band around her wrist and reaches for Lexa’s loose mane of wild curls. She ties them up in a messy bun that neither would ever dare to step out of the house with, but it serves its purpose of keeping Lexa’s hair off her body. Clarke moves between Lexa’s legs again and this time Lexa reaches for her, resting her hands on her hips and pulling her closer.  
Clarke allows the momentary distraction. She rests her own hands on Lexa’s thighs and reaches up to catch Lexa’s lips in an openmouthed kiss. The tension that has been hanging between them from the moment Lexa came home finds some relief in the way their lips and tongues meet, coming together in a familiar dance that feels like coming home. 

Way too soon to Lexa’s liking, Clarke pulls back and removes her hands from her thighs. Lexa is about to complain, but then those hands come together behind her back and she feels the clasp of her bra coming undone. Clarke pulls the straps from Lexa’s shoulder, purposely never breaking eye contact. “This has to go.”  
Lexa can’t refuse.

The bra joins the other discarded clothes somewhere on the floor and then Clarke is pushing at Lexa’s chest. “Lie down.”  
The brunette does as she is told, scooting back on the table before lying down, careful not to knock the bowls of paint off of the table. When she is settled, Clarke steps back, pushes Lexa’s legs together again and climbs up on the table, straddling Lexa’s hips.  
Lexa gulps, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breaths; Clarke smirks down at her, clearly content with the effect she is having on her girlfriend. But then she grows serious again as she reaches for a thin paintbrush, she dips it in yellow and then directs her undivided attention to Lexa’s torso. 

Slowly she starts making outlines on her collarbones and above her breast before reaching for a new brush, dipping it in white and doing the same. All the while, Lexa watches her. The way her eyes roam over her body, hungrily stopping on her breasts every now and then; the way she bites her lip in concentration as the tip of the brush touches Lexa’s skin; the way her muscles sometimes tremble with the effort to keep still. She takes it all in and it turns her on to no end. 

After a while, Clarke puts down the brushes and sits back to look at what she has done so far and deciding what she will do next. She has the stars and the moon done, the black outline of the church reaches from Lexa’s stomach, over her breast and stops just beneath her collarbone; the clouds are next. Her hands instinctively reach out to touch the sides of Lexa’s breasts, exploring the empty space before she paints it and Lexa has to bite back a moan. It still reaches Clarke’s ears though and she looks up at the girl lying beneath her as if she had forgotten she was there.  
Lexa’s lips are parted, her eyes darkened and there’s a redness covering her cheeks. Clarke can’t help it; she places her hands on the table beside Lexa’s head and pushes herself up as she leans her head down to kiss Lexa. The brunette accepts the kiss eagerly, desperate for some attention. She moans again when she feels Clarke’s tongue on her own and her hands reach for Clarke’s legs, body instinctively reaching up to connect with Clarke’s. 

Clarke pulls back, increasing the distance between their bodies again. “Careful.” She whispers and it is then that Lexa remembers she has paint on her body. She looks down between them, instantly recognizing the black church. 

“Why the Starry Night?” She asks, voice just as low as Clarke’s, hoarse with desire. 

“Because I love that painting. And I love you.” 

“Very original.”

“Shut up.” She reaches down for another brief kiss before gently pushing Lexa back down on the table and resuming her place on top of her. Lexa’s fingers remain on Clarke’s legs, tracing soft, meaningless patterns over the smooth skin.  
Clarke moves to pick up one of the sponges and dips it in white before starting on the clouds. They begin at Lexa’s ribs and then move over her breast – Lexa can’t help the moan that escapes as the sponge brushes over her nipple and she can feel Clarke squeeze her legs in response. But she remains focused on her work as she dips the sponge in the paint again and resumes her trail over Lexa’s body. 

They’re both biting their lips; Clarke in pure concentration, Lexa to keep herself from making too much sounds. She’s uncomfortably aroused, a wetness gathering between her legs that Clarke has to have noticed, but she doesn’t want to disturb the blonde. 

Clarke keeps painting, alternating between using the brushes and sponges and Lexa keeps fighting against the urge to touch Clarke, to grab her hips and grind up against her, her body demanding attention elsewhere. 

//

It takes a while, but then Clarke finally sits back and regards Lexa with a satisfied expression. She’s nodding as a smile forms on her lips and when she looks up at Lexa again she sees the brunette smiling too. 

“How are you holding on?”

“Barely.” She breathes. 

“I know.” Clarke replies, rocking her hips against Lexa’s in a slow rhythm; providing the girl some friction where she has been craving it for hours. Lexa closes her eyes as she moans, hips rocking up of their own accord. 

“Clarke.” Her voice is soft and pleading, her senses overwhelmed and her body ready to be touched. 

“Alright,” Clarke pushes up, bracing herself on the table again to kiss Lexa passionately and whisper in her ear, “you’ve been good.” before she climbs off. She grabs the bowls of paint and the brushes and sponges and places them on the ground, not interested in wasting time she could be spending on Lexa. When the table is cleared she reaches for the waistband of Lexa’s boxers and the brunette lifts her hips before even being asked to do so. Clarke slides the material down long, toned legs, throws it on the ground and then positions herself between those legs. 

She stares at the sight before her; a desperate Lexa, sporting the Starry Night on her torso, legs spread and dripping on their table. Clarke grabs her hips, pulling the girl towards her and then pushes her legs further apart; knees almost touching the table as she leans in to take in Lexa’s scent. Lexa grips the edges of the table in anticipation. 

When Clarke runs her tongue through Lexa’s drenched folds, licking up her arousal, Lexa can’t help but cry out. She is not usually this loud, but she had been suffering on that table for hours. The feeling of Clarke’s tongue on her now, licking up her length and sucking on her clit, is overwhelming. She knows she won’t last long.  
Only moments later she is writhing, hips rocking up to assist and guide Clarke’s tongue. But the blonde knows the body beneath her and she is expertly alternating between licking and sucking, providing pressure where she knows Lexa needs it. And then her movements start coming in sharp jerks and Clarke knows she’s close, so she focuses her attention on her clit, twirling small circles over the bud with the flat of her tongue. Soon enough, Lexa’s back is arching off the table as she releases one last, long moan. Clarke keeps her tongue on Lexa, allowing the brunette to ride out her orgasm and when she relaxes back down on the table, satisfied and panting, Clarke takes a moment to carefully lick her girlfriend clean. When she is done, she looks up at Lexa from between her legs to find green eyes already on her.  
Lexa sits up, reaching for Clarke and hooking her finger under the blonde’s chin. She brings their lips together, wasting no time in swiping her tongue over Clarke’s bottom lip, already tasting herself. They both moan into the kiss and Lexa pulls Clarke into her, nearly every part of their bodies touching. Clarke reaches up to undo the knot on Lexa’s head and she plays with the strands of hair as Lexa kisses her deeply.  
When Clarke pulls away they are both panting, smiles growing on their lips. The blonde looks down between their bodies to see the colors on Lexa’s torso rubbing off on her own, she looks back up with a smirk. 

“You’re getting me all dirty.” 

“Maybe we should get you cleaned up then.” 

“We should.” Clarke steps back, taking hold of Lexa’s hand as she does so and leads them to the bathroom. There, she lets go of her girlfriend and with her back still to her, she reaches to unclasp her bra, letting it fall from her shoulders and on the ground; Lexa can only stare. 

After Clarke kicks off her boxer shorts, she steps into the shower without looking back at Lexa, knowing that the brunette will undoubtedly follow. She turns on the water and stands in the downpour for a moment before she lifts her arms and runs her hands through her hair, her every move purposely slow. She feels Lexa’s arms wrap around her then, one hand resting on her hip, the other travelling up to massage her breast as soft lips brush the skin of her shoulder. She hums as she tangles her hand in Lexa’s curls, shifting her head to allow the other girl more space.  
The hand on her breast squeezes softly and it isn’t long before Clarke moans and Lexa bites her shoulder in response. The brunette decides to switch breasts then and as she does so, she slides the hand on Clarke’s hip south, inching it lower and lower until she cups Clarke’s center, wet from the water running down their bodies and her arousal. She runs a nimble finger through wet folds as the base of her palm presses against Clarke’s clit, making her knees go weak. Lexa continues her ministrations as Clarke’s breathing becomes heavier and the hand she has in Lexa’s hair tightens on a fistful of curls. 

Suddenly, Clarke turns around in Lexa’s embrace and pushes the taller girl against the shower wall, immediately attacking her lips when her back hits the tiles with a thud. As she rests her hands against the wall, framing Lexa’s head, she pushes her thigh between Lexa’s legs; Lexa’s thigh resting between her own legs. Lexa immediately grabs her hips, pulling her impossibly closer. They kiss and hold on to each other as Clarke starts grinding against Lexa, who meets her thrusts every time she pulls Clarke closer to her.  
This position isn’t exactly ideal, but Clarke is wound tightly and Lexa’s desire builds and builds with the way Clarke moves against her, gripping her shoulders and head like Lexa is the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground. The blonde occasionally moans in between kisses and Lexa often nips at Clarke’s bottom lip and sometimes they break apart in need of air and their breaths mingle in heavy pants.  
It’s not long before Clarke speeds up her movements and her nails are digging half moons in the skin of Lexa’s shoulder and her moans increase in volume, and honestly, it’s doing wonders for Lexa’s own arousal. 

Clarke comes first; Lexa knows it in the way she throws her head back and opens her mouth in a silent scream and then slowly rides out her orgasm against Lexa’s thigh before she comes to a full stop and slumps against Lexa.  
The brunette whimpers a little, hips still moving frantically against Clarke and the blonde looks up then. 

“I just–” She can’t even make a proper sentence, but she knows she doesn’t need to when Clarke kisses her.

“It’s okay.” Clarke whispers in her ear and starts moving her hips again as she sucks on her earlobe. The effect is almost instantaneous; Lexa grinds against Clarke’s thigh exactly twice more before she comes. 

They remain in each other’s embrace for a moment longer, coming down from their high and regaining their breath. Lexa cups Clarke’s cheeks and pulls her in for a slow kiss before pulling back and smirking at her girlfriend.

“You can use me as your canvas more often.” 

Clarke returns the smirk. “I certainly intend to.”


End file.
